Another phone call to make…

Three weeks ago, I went to see Kathleen. We went over my paperwork, what was going on, and some possible treatments. I see her again on Thursday.

I said no to group therapy. Maybe at some point down the line, but not right now. I can’t miss my Tuesday night workouts and I can’t do 2.5 hour dinner meetings for four months. The very idea makes me want to cry. She also recommended I call the nutritionist. I haven’t.  I should. It scares me. I don’t want someone to tell me what I should eat. I don’t want to gain weight.

I gained two pounds this week. I got the flu and missed the gym for several days. I feel like I don’t deserve to eat. Part of my “homework” was to step on the scale less. In some ways, I have… I’ve been staying with a friend almost daily instead of at home. This friend is the one that made me go back to therapy. He doesn’t own a scale. When I’m there, I can’t weigh myself. When I’m home, I step on the scale every few minutes praying the number will be lower than the time before.

I’m nervous for Thursday. Will the anxiety ever stop?

My outsides are cool
My insides are blue
Everytime I think I’m through
It’s because of you
I’ve tried different ways
But it’s all the same
At the end of the day
I have myself to blame
I’m just trippin’

<3

And so it begins… again.

I’m starting therapy again tomorrow.

My doctor started me on Prozac and the side effects were driving me crazy. I was emailing her constantly. Then, one night, after sitting in the bathroom for at least 10 minutes, our friend lectured me on how this wasn’t the way to live and how I needed to tell my doctor what was going on and go back to therapy.

I listened. I told my doctor. She gave me a number to call. The appointment was made last week. I’ve filled out the paperwork that came in the mail.

I’m terrified… of what this means, of what happens if I quit again, of all of it.

But I’m also frustrated. I’m tired and have no energy. I can barely get through my workouts. I can’t concentrate. Work is hard. Food stresses me out and I avoid situations where I have to eat when I can. I skip my lunch breaks. I’m rarely happy. I always want to vomit. I can’t live like this anymore.

It’s like you said over and over and over… “it’s up to me to choose what kind of life I lead.” I’m done with this one. I hope.

So, tomorrow it begins again. I guess it already has… <3

Diagnosis… When did THAT happen?

It’s going to sound really stupid, but, I always believed that my eating disordered issues were just that. I threw up, but, it was fine really. It’s not like I was bulimic. I stressed out, freaked out, whatever… but, who doesn’t? It wasn’t a disease.

There were and are times when I know that I’m lying to myself, but for the most part I truly believed that. It’s not like a doctor actually diagnosed me with anything.

So, imagine my shock and surprise when I logged on to my health insurance page to find my member number. There, under “ongoing health conditions” it says Anxiety and Bulimia Nervosa. Oh God. Oh God oh God oh God oh God….

Rationally, I know that it doesn’t matter what it says. It does not change my experiences over the last however many years. Nothing is new or different because of what my doctor(s) wrote down. And yet, it makes it so much more real. It makes it a lot harder to lie to myself. It was one thing when my friends said something or when I thought something. They and I… we’re not professionals. Our opinions are just opinions. Nothing more. This, this is an expert opinion.

It does not help that I’ve gained weight and have had myself on a pretty strict low-calorie diet for the last week. It does not help that I go to the doctor for the first time in over two years in two days.

No, not at all.

plagued

It’s 12:15am and I can’t sleep. I haven’t slept well in days, but tonight… tonight I *know* what’s plaguing my mind and preventing rest. Tonight, I know what is keeping me awake.

It’s that voice saying, “Really??? Lunch? Why did you do that? Why didn’t you listen to me??”

It’s that same voice that’s saying, “You did so well listening at dinner and then had to go blow it with that .66 lbs of fro yo. FAT.”

The voice is already bothering me about tomorrow, “You’re meeting a friend for breakfast? You know that means you have to eat right? Way to go. You’re ruining everything.”

The voice won’t let me sleep and I don’t know how to tune it out. <3 (Testing a new color)

Goodbye. It never gets easier.

This year, I’ve said goodbye too many times. I’ve said goodbye to old friendships that are no more. I’ve said goodbye to friends that have started new post-college adventures and moved away. I’ve said goodbye permanently to a few people who deeply impacted my life and I don’t get to say hello again on this earth.

In June, I said goodbye to my grandpa. Every day I miss him. Every day it hurts… 

In August, I said goodbye to a high school friend. He was an amazing young man and left this earth much too soon.

In September, my community said goodbye to two more of our hometown kids. Graduates from the class before and after me.

And now, in March, I’ll say goodbye to my brother’s best friend. I’m still shocked. I’m so sad and I don’t know what to do with myself. I’m so tired of saying goodbye. I don’t want to see my friends at another funeral. I don’t want to sit in the same church that 28 months ago we said goodbye to another friend in. Seven angels from my high school in less that 2.5 years. We’ve buried too many of our own. I don’t know how I’m going to make it through this week. I don’t know how to say goodbye.

When I think my many goodbyes this year, especially those that I was close to, I think of your goodbye and I can’t imagine the pain and hurt you must feel if the pain and hurt I feel is so great. <3

Broken

When you’re broken in a million little pieces 
And you’re tryin 
But you cant hold on anymore. 
Every tear falls down for a reason. 
Don’t you stop believing in yourself
When you’re broken.

Broken.

We talk about it all the time. Things are broken… toys, limbs, hearts, cars. If you can name it, it can probably be broken.

At church, we talk of brokenness. There is a need for brokenness. We should embrace being broken that we may be reshaped and transformed. We are the vines and we must be pruned in order to bear fruit.

Broken.

I’m not sure why today was especially difficult or why tonight has my mind “rushing and racing and running in circles.” I feel like my brokenness is seeping into the world where people might see it. I worry that my voice is getting quieter and the negative voice is getting louder. I wonder about why it is that all of these entries are painful, angry, and depressing… why don’t I write when I’m happy? I *am* happy sometimes. There *are* good days and things that make me proud. 

I’m not going to stop believing that one day I’ll win the battle. I’m already making progress in one arena, but unfortunately, I also see the backslide in the other. I’ve pondered over writing the specifics, but I fear divulging too much… I fear triggering myself or others. I fear that I’ll worry you. Sigh. <3

Life and love are the same thing…

It’s National Eating Disorders Awareness Week this week… and while I likely won’t attend one of the official events, it is ever-present in my mind.

I might be afraid
But it’s my turn to be brave.

It’s also the start of Lent this week and I hope to grow in prayer this Lent and truly begin to LET GO.

I am the Word that leads all to freedom
I am the peace the world cannot give
I will call your name, embracing all your pain
Stand up, now, walk, and live

Lastly, or perhaps not, it’s also my birthday this week. May the next year be better than the last… it certainly has the potential.

It’s a brand new day
The sun is shinning
It’s a brand new day
For the first time
In such a long long time
I know
I’ll be ok

<3

The First Reading

Tonight’s first reading really struck a chord with me…

Job spoke, saying:
Is not man’s life on earth a drudgery?
Are not his days those of hirelings?
He is a slave who longs for the shade,
a hireling who waits for his wages.
So I have been assigned months of misery,
and troubled nights have been allotted to me.
If in bed I say, “When shall I arise?”
then the night drags on;
I am filled with restlessness until the dawn.
My days are swifter than a weaver’s shuttle;
they come to an end without hope.
Remember that my life is like the wind;
I shall not see happiness again.

Job 7:1-4, 6-7

Father spoke about pain and feeling unloved tonight. He told us that God never loves us more than when we’re feeling unloved… God is never more present than when we feel so alone. As is customary for Father to do, he spoke about football. Although, it applies to all sports. If a pattern is broken when you make a play, you can scramble to still make that play work. Great players make great plays regardless of whether or not the pattern went as intended. God is a great player. God uses and redeems the broken patterns  in our life. Never give up on God because He will fulfill His purpose. Wise words from Father tonight… and words that I needed to hear.

Lord, make us worthy
Make us worthy to see Your face
Fill us with Your word, O Lord
and heal us with Your grace. 

<3

Choose Happy

You told me to be happy. Choose happy.

I’m so far from happy and I can feel myself driving you away. You’re the best friend I could ever ask for and I’m pushing you away because I’m not happy.

You keep asking me to go out dancing with you… to just go out. I don’t want to go out. I don’t want to go out anywhere. Ever. I don’t want to do anything. Ever. I don’t want to be in public. I don’t want to be social. I avoid situations where I’ll have to talk to people. I avoid situations where I’ll have to see people… where people will see me. The thought of it is terrifying right now. I go to work and then I just want to come home and hide in my bed. I told you on the phone tonight that I have to prepare myself to go out and you didn’t get it and I couldn’t explain it. I could hear your frustration as you got off the phone and I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I’m inexplicably falling apart and you’re witness to it. I’m sorry that I’m falling apart as you’re trying to put the pieces back together. I have to prepare myself these days. I need to know that I’m going to be going out and that I’m going to see people and people are going to see me. I need enough time to fight off the voice in my head telling me to stay home. Don’t go anywhere. You’ll be let down. No one wants you around. You’re in a foul mood, don’t subject anyone to that. I need to prepare myself for the fight. I need to attempt to fend off the voice in the mirror telling me that NOTHING LOOKS GOOD on me.

I don’t want to be seen. I see the numbers on the scale and they’re only going up. I hate it. I hate that every day is a struggle. I hate that my clothes are too small and don’t look good. I hate that I look pregnant and I”m not. I’m so fat and it’s killing me. I hate my body. I hate everything about me. I feel so worthless and unworthy. I feel like I’m never good enough… so I may as well stay home.

I’m applying for a job and I already don’t want it. I told my mom about it and everytime she said something encouraging I came back with all the reasons that it would be terrible. But I’m applying? Because maybe? Maybe I’ll be wrong? Maybe it’s only working for Visitor Services that is sucking the life out of me. Maybe working for the Volunteer Department will be different. I can’t see it though. I see how unhappy I’ll be because I’m so unhappy now. I can’t envision happy. I can’t imagine happy. I don’t remember happy.

And when you can’t remember or imagine what happy is like… then how do you choose it?

I’m so scared. <3

we have a choice

The thoughts count…the thoughts are the source of it all.  Even though I’ve grown more comfortable with eating whatever I please the voice inside my head that fills me with guilt every single time I indulge is still there.  It’s a hard one to erase and it’s a hard one to ignore.  That voice screams every time my cousin and I dig in to a pint of Ben and Jerry’s ice cream and every time my clothes don’t fit right.  Those thoughts count.  I don’t know how to make them go away and it drives me crazy that I can’t just do what I want.  The behaviors stopped…skipping meals, chugging water to suppress cravings, rationing food…but that doesn’t mean those thoughts still don’t go racing through my mind. They do. All the time. That’s how I knew I had a problem.  I hope that you are starting to realize that you do to.  I love you and I hate to see you get so frustrated when you don’t need to be. I hope one day you realize that all those thoughts are wrong.  You are wonderful and you are beautiful.

There is a beautiful picture that hangs in my room that serves as a constant reminder that “it is up to me to choose what kind of life I need”.  Everyday I have a choice – I have a choice to not let those thoughts get the best of me…and so do you.  Stop letting them win.

Every day I have a choice – I have a choice to try…to try to move on, to try and heal and to try and piece my life back together.  I must admit that I just don’t know…I don’t know how to move on, how to make this pain go away or how my life could ever go back to being normal.  I know that I am not okay.  I am struggling more than I ever have in my life and more than I could ever tell you in words.  Losing my dad unleashed so many demons.  Years of anger and sadness have come back to haunt me and it is too much for me to bear.  My cousins nicknamed me “Tin Man”.  I cannot count the number of times I’ve been called heartless.  I’ve mastered how to ignore any emotion but happiness…but I can’t do it anymore.  I’m overwhelmed every single day with the anger from the past and the sadness of the present.  But it is the regret that eats away at me more than anything.  It is something that I will have to carry with me for the rest of my life and I do not know where to begin to make peace with the decisions that I made.

I am a mess…an absolute mess.  I’ve always been a fighter…I’ve always managed to find my own way.  But I am at a point in my life where I just don’t know what to do.  I don’t want to continue to live my life in this horrible state of mind.  So I’ve been getting help.  Please don’t ask me questions… I am not ready to talk about it.  But I hope that by knowing that I am working toward improving my life, you will be inspired to make changes in yours too.  I am choosing to be happy.  I want to see you happy and I want you to choose to be happy too.  Mahal Kita… SO MUCH.

*

Do I expect to change, the past I hold inside
with all the words I say repeating over in my mind?
Some things you can’t erase, no matter how hard you try.
An exit to escape is all there is left to find.